


watch what happens

by fakeheaux



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Modern Royalty, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-10 23:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12310554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeheaux/pseuds/fakeheaux
Summary: “Liam,” Louis says slowly, turning to him bodily. His hands are clasped together in front of him, as if in prayer. “I’m not the one who bit the bleedin’ prince!”“You bit me?” Prince Harry cries, hands shooting, inexplicably, to his chest, hands covering where his nipples must be under his shirt. “Are you insane?”or liam bites harry, the prince of england





	watch what happens

**Author's Note:**

> yay it’s done!!! i’m so happy to have participated in the first ever reverse bang!!! the artwork for this is absolutely gorgeous and i fell in love with how majestic harry looked the second i saw it. not gonna lie i was tempted to make liam some sort of farmer, but i digress
> 
> i personally think this is one of my best fics so far, but i will admit it’s a bit short, so for that i apologize. irma was a jerk, but im not making any excuses
> 
> thank you to jessi for making such an amazing piece of art to write a fic for, without you there’d be no fic! and thank you to the mods for hosting the first ever reverse bang, i can’t wait for the next one :)
> 
> title is from watch what happens from the musical newsies because i saw it on netflix and im obsessed :)))

“And I _have_ to go?” Louis asks, brows raised. Liam sighs, running a hand across his forehead. He knew he shouldn’t have asked Louis.

“I would like for you to,” he says. “Seeing as tonight’s a full moon and I’ll need someone to cover for me when I bail halfway through.”

Louis squints. “You do realize I’m a wolf, too, right?” He gestures to his body, stretched out along the couch, leaving no room for anyone else. “I will also be forced to bail halfway through.”

Eyes narrowing, Liam lets his gaze drift. “Damn, you’re right. Well - what am I supposed to do, then?”

Louis shrugs. “You could always pretend to be sick right before you ditch. You wouldn’t technically be lying.”

Liam nods. “I guess. Thanks, then.” Louis waves him off, pulling out his phone. Standing, he glances at his own phone, tossed carelessly on the coffee table, and briefly considers just calling his boss and begging off. He quickly throws the thought aside; he’s already on thin ice with this job, he doesn’t need to give them a reason to fire him.

That night, he gets dressed, a plan half formed in his mind to just fall ill once the sun begins to set. It’s not like he’ll get out of this any other way.

*

The dining hall they’ve set up is gorgeous, beautifully lit up, with large round tables draped in white tablecloths, which are neatly decorated with porcelain plates lined with golden details and silver utensils so clean they sparkle in the light of the many chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Upon first walking into the hall Liam’s breath was taken away, stunned by how the hall seemed to be glowing.

It’s beautiful, extravagant, and absolutely pointless.

The event for which they’ve set up is supposed to be a silent auction, with lots such as personal boats, ornate candlesticks, oil paintings, and every other useless thing rich people love to pretend to need. The proceeds are meant to go to Oxfam, a charity working to end poverty. As Liam shines silverware to be placed on the remaining tables, he can’t help but think that all of the money spent on tonight alone is worth more than anyone will be paying for the items up for bid combined.

But that’s not his issue to be concerned with.

“Alright, then?” Jade asks, appearing at his elbow. Liam startles, dropping the fork he’d been shining onto the pile of silverware with a clatter. Jade laughs, moving out from behind him to pick it up, handing it to him as she begins shining her own set. “Sorry,” she says, not sounding very sorry.

Liam nods, forcing a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, thank you for asking. Just thinking.”

Jade gasps ridiculously, holding up a hand to her chest. “Impossible.”

“Okay,” he says, dropping his cloth. He turns to walk away but is stopped by a hand on his arm.

“Nooo, I’m kidding,” Jade laughs. She pulls him back, pressing his abandoned cloth into his hands. “You know I’m only teasing, Li, come on.”

Acquiescing, Liam gives her a soft shove. “Fine.” They finish polishing their pile of silverware quietly, only breaking the silence to make small jokes as the other staff go around the hall tidying up. They work especially hard to make the place look exquisite, heeding the warnings of their boss that if anything looked less than extraordinary they’d pay. Liam’s not sure why, thinks maybe there might be some big fancy guest coming that they haven’t been told about. He mentions it to Jade, who gives him an incredulous look.

“You weren’t paying attention during the briefing, were you?” At Liam’s blank look, she laughs loudly, startling someone passing by them into dropping a - fortunately empty - tray. He gives them a dirty look and moves on. Jade ignores them completely. “I think I’ll just let you be surprised,” she says. “You really should pay more attention, love.”

Liam winces. “I was thinking about something.”

Brows raised, Jade lifts the tray of now fully polished silverware. “Been doing a lot of that lately, haven’t you?

She walks away without waiting for an answer, and Liam sighs. He follows her, but only because he needs to look busy and there’s nothing much left for him to do.

*

The guests are all announced as they enter the hall, and Liam’s never thought he was too behind on the secular, but apparently he’s a lot more behind than he knew, because he does not recognize any of the names that are declared across the grand room. He spends the first few moments of the night zoned out, standing next to Jade in a line against the wall, where the rest of the workers for the night were pushed to in order to make room for the guests to enter, mingle, and find their seats. There are only a few workers moving about, and that’s only to make sure the seating chart is followed.

He’s startled out of his thoughts when Jade elbows him in the side. When he turns to give her a look and maybe say something just as sharp as her tiny elbow, her eyes go round and dart meaningfully to the front entrance, where a small group of guards are beginning to separate, revealing none other than -

“His Royal Highness, Prince Harry Styles,” calls the announcer, quickly followed by, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Gemma Styles.”

The hall erupts in applause, and as the royal siblings move through to get to their seats, the people they pass bow and curtsy. Gemma glides through the sea of people with ease, chin held high, but Liam can’t help but notice a smug tilt to her serene smile. He laughs, covering it with a cough when Jade elbows him again.

Then he sees Harry.

Harry, who instead of gliding through the parted crowd stumbles, tripping over the threshold. There’s a chorus of ‘oohs’ as he rights himself, a sheepish smile gracing his features. He stops frequently as he follows his sister, shaking hands and kissing cheeks, striking up three second conversations as his guard tries to push him along.

When Louis first taught Liam the word enigma, he’d applied it to everything in his life. Reality shows are enigmas. Citrus is an enigma. He himself is an enigma, being a werewolf and all. He eventually had to stop, because every time he’d use it in a conversation Louis would shift and tackle him to the ground, teeth to his neck. But he has always made sure to say it when it really did apply.

To say Prince Harry is an enigma is an understatement. He occasionally wears shirts open to his navel, never wears less than three gaudy rings at all times, has an extensive collection of patterned suits from brands like Gucci and YSL, had at one point let his hair grow out to his shoulders, and once auditioned for the X Factor at age sixteen. When he had been let through by all four judges, he’d shrugged, smiled sheepishly, and said “I’m not really here to compete. I just wanted to know I could sing.” He is also the most public member of the royal family, coming out as bisexual at seventeen in an interview with the Mirror, appearing at awards shows, sitting front row at London fashion week, and attending charity events at least once a week.

His middle name should be enigma, in Liam’s opinion. Just drop the Edward, he thinks, and no one would be the wiser. There’d still be an ‘e’ there for the initial.

“Liam,” Jade whispers harshly. Once again, he’s torn from his thoughts, turning to look at her. She shakes her head incredulously and jerks her chin to where the rest of the workers have begun to make their rounds with trays of drinks and finger foods.

“Oops?” He winces, grabbing one of the trays on the table beside them. He’s losing focus, which happens quite frequently on a good day, but to happen when he’s in a very public place only hours before a full moon? Not good.

Try as he may, Liam can’t stay focused as the night goes on. The hosts of the evening give a thank you speech to everyone in attendance, Princess Gemma stands up and says a few words, and even Prince Harry gives a short speech, but all Liam can think about are the smells, the colors, the sounds. He can hear the heartbeats of everyone in the hall beating erratically, and his collar seems to be tightening by the hour.

Eventually, when his vision blurs for the third time in less than five minutes, he gives in. Setting his tray on an abandoned table, he shoves through the crowd to stand next to Jade. As desperate as he’s beginning to feel, he lets her finish talking to a guest before grabbing her arm and pulling her aside. She stumbles over her feet, protesting quietly as he pushes her into the wall more forcefully than he’d meant to.

“Christ, Liam, _what_?” she snaps. He holds his hands up, blinking rapidly.

“Sorry, sorry. I just - I’m not feeling well, so just - tell Josh I’m leaving, yeah? I would tell him myself but I really don’t feel good right now,” he says quickly, running a hand over his eyes. All he can see right now is the minute twitches of Jade’s eyes, the aircon brushing through her curls, the way her lashes are tangled together, and it’s not a good sign. The moon wasn’t supposed to rise so early, he thinks hysterically.

Jade’s brows furrow, and she places a hand on his arm. He flinches away, and she holds her hands up placatingly. “Are you alright, Li? You look like you’re about to faint.” Slowly, she presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and almost immediately yanks it away, hissing. “You’re burning up, Liam,” she says sternly.

Liam swallows hard, nodding. “I know. I - I must have had something rotten to eat earlier, I dunno, just. Let Josh know I’ve left, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s pulling away, ducking into the back hall, where the servers travel in and out from. He shoves past all the other servers hiding in the hall to avoid guests, pulling at his tie. It’s too hot suddenly, like stepping through the doorway took him to the desert rather than the back entrance. When he reaches the door to the alley behind the building, he bursts through, revelling in the sudden cool air. He lets his arms hang by his sides as his head falls back. The sky is cloudy, the light of the rising moon barely breaking through, but he’s knows it’s there. Like a taunt, almost.

When he’s suddenly winded by a headrush, he falls forward, hands coming up to press against the brick wall. Liam bows his head, panting for breath. He can feel the moon working in him, rippling under his skin and through his bones. The hairs on his arms stand on end, and goose pimples raise up all over his body. He shakes, not from the cold but from the pain of the shift, coming over him too suddenly. He wasn’t ready for the wolf, wasn’t paying attention to it, and now the wolf is angry.

The door opens behind him, but he barely registers it, or the footsteps that follow.

“Hey, have you got, like, a fag or anything, I’m - um. Are you okay?” he hears a throaty voice ask. The steps come closer to Liam; he can feel the vibrations even through the rubber soles of his shoes. “Mate? Like, is there anything I can do for you? I’ve, um, I’ve got a medic on call at all times, pretentious as it sounds, but she’ll be here in ten minutes, if you really need it.”

It happens as if in slow motion, even though Liam knows he’s moving faster than he usually does. Liam feels the hand raising, knows it’s only meant to serve as a reassuring touch to his shoulder, or arm, but the wolf doesn’t care. He turns around in a flash, grabbing the man’s wrist and shoving him against the wall opposite them. His teeth are bared, and a low growl is forming in his throat. His eyes are red, and Liam knows it.

The man’s green eyes are wide in fear, his mouth dropped open in a sharp gasp. “Mate,” he says shakily, “I don’t think you’re okay.”

Liam’s head quirks. It’s such a bare statement, brutal honesty in the face of what could quite possibly be death, that he loosens his grip just a touch. The man underneath tries to take advantage, though, and Liam growls again, wrapping his hand that much tighter than before.

“We should get you to a hospital or - or something,” the man says. His heeled boot slips on the curb, and he falls, crying out when Liam roughly yanks him back up. “Please, man, I don’t want any trouble. I haven’t got any, like, royal jewels on me or anything, I swear. Well,” he laughs nervously, head tilting. “There’re the ones between my legs, but those don’t count - okay.” He yelps again as Liam pulls him closer, his free hand curling around the man’s throat. He coughs roughly, even though Liam knows his hold isn’t even that tight yet.

The alley is washed in sudden light as there’s a break in the clouds, and Liam looks up to where the moon is shining down on them. His eyes fall shut, his growl fading away, as the moonlight washes over him fully. There’s the sound of ripped clothing, and he’s suddenly on all fours, senses heightened, eyes darting around the alley.

Against the wall, the man is clutching his sprained wrist to his chest, cradled in his other arm. His eyes are wide, the green color almost silver in the light of the moon, and his expression is a twisted mask of both fear and shock.

A deep, long growl breaks through Liam’s throat, and he stalks towards the man slowly.

“Oh, wow, okay,” he whispers harshly, and eyes the end of the alley, where it opens up onto the street. It’s obvious he’s thinking about running, and Liam could almost laugh. Really, if a wolf could laugh, he’d be a hyena.

Claws clicking against the stone floor of the alley, Liam circles in front of the man, effectively blocking the exit. His lip curls, baring his teeth. The man whimpers.

“Listen, um, I didn’t read _Twilight_ , or watch any of the movies, so I’m not sure what exactly I should do right now, but I’m just, um, gonna go -” and he darts to the door behind him, trying to pry it open before he’s even reached the handle. A bark snaps out of Liam’s snout, and he leaps, knocking the man over onto his back. A cry echoes through the alley as the man’s head snaps against the ground, and the man is crying now, face screwed up in fear and pain as he twists his head to the side.

“Please,” he whispers, tears running down his face. He chokes on a sob, hands weakly trying to shove Liam off of him. The blows barely register with Liam, who’s staring at the man’s exposed neck, tongue smacking against the roof of his mouth. “No, _please_.” Liam snarls, and he quiets, whimpers tampered down by the fear of the beast on top of him.

Liam huffs, nosing at the man’s throat.

“Oh, god,” he whines, voice cracking.

Ears twitching, Liam’s takes a small sliver of the man’s skin between his teeth, testing the strength.

“No, no no no,” he moans.

Satisfied, Liam lifts his head in a long howl, throwing his usual care away. It echoes across the alley, and he can hear the noise of it flow through to the city beyond, to where his kind can hear him. He hopes his pack can hear him.

Then he dives at the man’s neck, his jaw poised to bite.

*

Prince Harry wakes up with a shout, sitting upright on the bed and startling Liam so much so he jumps up from his seat at his desk. Louis, perched cross legged on the desktop, rolls his eyes.

“Wimp,” he says, unfolding his legs and climbing off the desk. Liam sighs, running a hand through his hair. Louis approaches the bed, watching Prince Harry carefully. “Your Highness?” he asks quietly. His gaze whips toward him, eyes wide. “Are you feeling okay?”

The prince swallows hard, wincing at the sound. “Where am I?” he asks, voice rough. “What - what happened?”

Louis winces. “Yeah, um. How much do you remember from last night?”

Prince Harry shrugs, hands in his hair. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. He’s still in his suit from the night before, Liam realizes. It’s torn and dirty from Liam dragging him through the back alleys of the city all the way to the nearest woods - which was really just a park with one thick patch of trees - until he’d made it and waited with his catch until morning. He should have changed him into something more comfortable.

Nodding, Louis digs through Liam’s drawers, pulling out a set of clothes. He hands them to Prince Harry, along with a fresh towel he’d grabbed earlier. “Here. Go have a shower, yeah? You’ll feel better, calm down a bit, and then we’ll explain what happened.”

“I’m not giving you any money,” Prince Harry says suddenly, stumbling out of the bed. He almost falls flat on his face, but catches himself in the last second. “We - They don’t let me carry cash on my person, and the castle guard does not care very much for ransom notes. You don’t stand to gain anything from keeping me here, so you should just let me go.”

Eyeing Liam, Louis crosses his arms. “Trust me, I know.” He turns to Prince Harry. “Lucky for you, we don’t want your money. What we want is for you to shower, maybe brush your teeth, and then we’ll give you something to eat, explain why you’re here, and then you can go home.”

“And if I say no?” Prince Harry lifts his chin. “If you don’t want anything from me then you won’t make me stay.”

Liam’s eyes go wide, darting to Louis. “He’s got a point, Louis.”

Louis turns to him, features heavy with disbelief. “You’re the one who got us into this mess, Liam, shut up.”

“Hey,” Liam says, holding up a finger. “You’re the one who bit me first, so technically, you got us into this.”

“Liam,” Louis says slowly, turning to him bodily. His hands are clasped together in front of him, as if in prayer. “I’m not the one who bit the _bleedin’_ prince!”

“You _bit_ me?” Prince Harry cries, hands shooting, inexplicably, to his chest, hands covering where his nipples must be under his shirt. “Are you insane?”

Hand held out in Prince Harry’s direction, Liam raises his brows at Louis. “See what you did? What happened to telling him gently, eh?” He turns back to Prince Harry, grimacing. “Listen, I’m really sorry about all of this, but if you could just take a shower, or at least just change, we’ll give you some food and then I swear we’ll explain everything and send you home. I swear.”

Prince Harry stares at him, brows furrowed. His chest is heaving, as if he’s run a mile, and Liam knows that if he doesn’t calm down soon his first change won’t be at the full moon.

“Fine,” Prince Harry says, clutching the clothes to his chest. “But you’re sending me straight home after you tell me why I’m here.” His eyes dart around the room. “Where’s my phone?”

Louis shakes his head. “We’ve got it, but I’m not giving it to you until we send you on your way.” At Prince Harry’s shocked expression, he holds up a hand. “What we need to tell you can’t be interrupted by you calling your guard to pick us up while you’re hiding in the loo, alright? You’ll get your phone back, just not yet.”

Jaw clenched, Prince Harry nods, looking dejected. “Is that the loo, then?” he asks, pointing to a door. Louis and Liam both nod, and he walks in without a word, the door shutting behind him with a quiet click.

Louis sighs loudly. “You’ve really stepped in it this time, haven’t you, Liam?”

*

Once Prince Harry’s come out and they’ve given him some food - fruits and a glass of orange juice, at his complete resistance of bacon and eggs - they sit down across the table from him. Liam feels strangely like they’re a couple of parents about to tell their kid something awful over breakfast, but he shakes it off. And unclasps his hands for good measure.

Prince Harry, carefully cutting his fruit up and mixing the pieces together, glances up at the them, eyes round. “So what happened last night, then? All I remember is seeing some guy - you, actually,” he says, pointing his fork at Liam, “in the alley behind the gala and you were, like, sick? Or something? I don’t know, but you hit me or pushed me or something. Don’t remember after that.”

Louis nods, lips screwed up. “Yeah, you were probably pissing your pants ‘cause of how scared you were, so I wouldn’t doubt you forgetting stuff. Um, basically what happened is -”

“Do you believe in werewolves?” Liam blurts. Louis gives him a look, obviously upset that he’s been interrupted, but Liam doesn’t pay attention, watching Prince Harry carefully. He’s staring right back at Liam, slack jawed and wide eyed.

“Like - like _Twilight_?” he asks, stammering. Liam nods. “Um, not - not really.”

Liam sits forward, resting an arm on the table. “Not _really_?”

“Well,” Prince Harry shrugs. “Who doesn’t think that stuff is real, on some level?”

Louis scoffs. “Most rational people.”

Prince Harry levels him with a look. “I guess you’re not a rational person then?”

Liam’s head bounces to the side, his mouth quirking. “You wouldn't be wrong.” He clears his throat when the prince looks at him, and straightens in his seat. “Anyway, your Highness, um, that’s - we’re actually - um. Lou?” he grimaces, turning to Louis, who holds his hands up.

“You got us into this mess, mate, you deal with it,” he says.

Sighing, Liam nods. “Great. Course.” He runs his hands over his face, breathing deeply. “Okay, so um, last night? I wasn’t sick, but I wasn’t feeling great either. It’s because the full moon was last night.”

Prince Harry laughs, a small, choked thing. “You’re not saying..?” He trails off, smiling, and looks at Louis, who shrugs. His smile drops. He turns back to Liam. “You’re not saying.” He leans forward, eyes wide. “You’re _not_.”

“I am,” Liam says gently. Prince Harry sits back heavily, eyes wide and flitting around her room. “Listen, Prince Harry, I know it sounds strange, but it’s true. I can prove it, if you need me to.”

“Maybe not inside, though,” Louis comments, brushing a hand through his hair. “I just cleaned, and that’s not happening again anytime soon so we need to keep it like this for as long as possible.” He waves a hand around the room flippantly. Liam turns, surveying the small living room. He turns back to Louis.

“Where?” he asks. Louis raises a brow.

“Scuse me?”

“You said you cleaned,” Liam elaborates. “Where?”

Mouth working, no doubt cooking up some insults, Louis rolls his eyes. “Piss off. Are you gonna shift or not?”

“Shift?” Prince Harry asks. His eyes are wide, and they practically pierce through Liam’s own. He swallows hard.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Shift. As in, into a wolf.”

“My god,” Prince Harry whispers, running a hand over his face. He’s replaced his rings, which Liam didn’t notice until now. He doesn’t even remember where he put them last night. Probably in the loo. “You two are - you’re insane. I need to call - someone, to get me home, alright, they’re probably looking everywhere for me -”

“They’re not, actually,” Louis says casually, inspecting his cuticles. “Sent a text to your sister, Princess Gemma? Told her you were staying at Niall’s. Then I texted Niall and told him that you found a nice bird to go home with, and to tell you sister you were with him if she asked. They both bought it. No one’s looking.”

Liam coughs roughly. “This is starting to sound really hostage-y, which is not what I was intending, so...help me push the sofas, Lou.”

Unconcerned, Louis does so, and they push the sofas against the wall. Liam lifts the coffee table, turns it over onto one of the sofas, and he nods at the small space they’ve made. It’ll do, for the quick shift he needs to do.

He turns to Prince Harry. “Just watch me carefully, alright? And - and don’t scream.”

He strips quickly, ignoring Louis’s low whistle. Turning so most of his body is hidden from the prince - he’d like to keep some semblance of dignity, if this meeting doesn’t turn out well - he calls on the wolf. It responds quickly, and he shudders before falling to his knees. In the next second, he’s changed.

Prince Harry shouts, scrambling out of his seat. He plasters himself against the wall, chest heaving, eyes wide, and Liam is strongly reminded of the night before. He sits back, tilting his head, trying to show the prince he’s safe. Louis walks over, drops a heavy hand on his head. Liam tilts his chin up, knocking it off, and catches it between his teeth, gnawing gently. Louis sucks on his teeth, pulling his hand away.

“See?” he says. “We’re not kidding. And this is what you are now.” Liam looks back to Prince Harry, who’s let himself relax a bit against the wall. He slowly walks forward, breath shallow. Liam stays sitting, trying not to frighten him.

“So this is - this is what I’m going to be now?” Prince Harry asks, voice shaking. Louis nods. “Wow. Okay. That’s, um, that’s great. Amazing. I think I’m gonna hurl.” He gags softly, placing a hand on his stomach. Liam takes half a step forward, worried, but Louis just scoffs.

“Don’t do it on the carpet, mate, it’ll never come out,” he says. Liam huffs at him, and he shrugs. “Fine. But if he does it, I’m not cleaning it up.”

Liam shakes his head roughly, rough enough to spread the shake through the rest of his body. The shiver coaxes him back into a human, and he dresses quickly, an eye on the prince the entire time.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks. “We’ve got some water, if you want.”

“No,” Louis says indignantly, raising an arm. “He didn’t even finish his fruit.”

Liam waves him off, mumbling at him. “Listen, your Highness, please just stay calm. This is what you are now, yes, but it’s not going to change anything. You’ll still be prince, and you’ll still have your life. The only difference is every month you get to be something else.” He shrugs, a small smile on his face. “This is, quite literally, the best thing that ever happened to me. It could be for you too.”

Eyes wide, Prince Harry stares at Liam. “I’m _royalty_ , Liam. Do you know how much this means? I can’t just run around Buckingham palace once a month on all fours and with a tail. They’ll - they’ll burn me at the stake!”

Louis makes a face. “So you could marry a man but you can’t be a werewolf? That makes no sense, mate.” He runs a hand over his face. “Listen, all you’d have to do is say you’re going out with friends. You’d be back early enough in the morning that your mum and your keepers wouldn’t notice a thing. And if you keep your cool and don’t do anything that makes you seem sketchy, the public won’t catch on either. If it were as hard as you’re making it seem, your _Highness_ , then a whole tenth of your country wouldn’t be shifting right under your nose.”

Prince Harry’s mouth drops open. “A whole tenth of the population is werewolf?” Liam and Louis nod. “Is there, like, some sort of underground society or something? How do you know?”

Liam shrugs. “We’re all connected, one way or another. Everyone’s been pack with everyone at some point, what with moving house and city and whatever. I myself have been a part of three different packs, and I wasn’t bit until I was sixteen.”

“I’ve been a part of four,” Louis says proudly. He sends a smug grin Liam’s way. “Always been better than Li here, I have.”

Brows furrowed, Prince Harry falls into a seat heavily. “Wouldn’t that make you worse?” he asks absently. “You look like you can’t hold onto a relationship.”

Affronted, Louis makes a face. “Deal with him,” he says to Liam. He points to Prince Harry, makes some sort of elaborate sign with his hand, nods meaningfully at Liam, then storms off to him room.

“What the hell was that supposed to mean?” Prince Harry asks, hand out. Liam shrugs.

“Louis’s an...enigma.” He grins, reminded of his thoughts about Harry last night.

“Don’t!” Louis shouts from his room. Liam rolls his eyes, waving him off, and turn back to the prince.

Walking slowly towards, the prince, Liam shoves his hands into his pockets. “It’s really nothing, your Highness. Really. Once you learn to control the wolf, you’re gold.”

“Control the wolf?” Prince Harry asks, scoffing. “Do you realize just how insane you sound? This is - this absolutely mental, why am I even still here? Where’s my phone, I need to leave,” he stands abruptly, hand held out. “Give me my phone.”

Liam bites his lip. “I’m sorry, your Highness, I can’t -”

“Give me my fucking phone, Liam!” Prince Harry shouts. Liam hears the miniscule squeak of Louis’s door opening. He knows Louis won’t come out, not so soon after his dramatic walk out, but he’ll be listening.

Nodding, Liam walks into the small kitchen. Prince Harry’s phone is charging on Louis’s port, there because Louis refuses to charge his phone in his own room for whatever reason. He unplugs it, glancing down at the screen as it lights up. The picture is of the prince and his sister, at some sort of casual dinner. Princess Gemma is sat on Prince Harry’s lap, his arms wrapped around her waist. They’re both wearing jumpers, and in Princess Gemma’s hand is a mug of tea, chipped around the rim.

Clearing his throat, he hands the phone to the prince. He snatches it out of his hand, frowning at him.

“Your mate said you sent out texts last night,” he says. “How'd you unlock it?”

Liam shrugs. “Your fingerprint. I realize how awful that sounds, but I promise all we did was send the text to your sister and your friend. We didn't go through it or anything.”

Prince Harry shakes his head. “Whatever.” He unlocks his phone, thumbs at it for a few seconds before raising it to his ear. He glances at Liam, then turns away, as if trying to hide. “Niall? Yeah, it's me. Yeah, I'm fine, just - I need a ride, and since Gems thinks I'm with you I can't call for a car. Yeah, you know how she is, always snooping. No, just - I'll text you the address, all right?” He pauses. “I'll just stay with you for a couple of hours. Not really in the mood to go home.” He glances at Liam again, then nods at something Niall’s said. “Yeah, I'll send you it. Alright. Bye.”

He hangs up. Shoulders lifting, he takes a breath, then turns back to Liam.

“What's the address?”

*

“And you just let him walk out?” Louis asks, affronted. “How the hell are we supposed to watch over him when he's going to be in the bleeding palace?”

Liam shrugs. “I put our numbers in his phone last night, and I sent myself a text from his phone so I could have his. If he's got any questions, which he will, he'll text. Or call. Or FaceTime, we've both got -”

Louis waves his hands around, making zipping noises. “Shut up. He's a _prince_ , those guys don't know how to ask for help, they're used to it just being handed to them.”

Eyes narrowed, Liam purses his lips. “Mmm. Don't think so. He'll be calling. Or texting. Or -”

“Don't,” Louis snaps, pointing a finger at him. “You need to fix this. Now.”

Liam makes a face, lip curling. “Why can't I just -”

“Ah!” Louis snaps, hand held up. “Fix it.” He points at Liam again, giving him a meaningful look, and walks off. Liam frowns.

“Just because you’re alpha doesn’t mean you can boss me around like that,” he says petulantly. He know Louis hears him, but neither of them comment on it. 

Sighing, Liam eyes his phone. It's only been a day since the prince stormed out of their flat, his clothes from the night before in a plastic bag. His friend hadn't even come up to the door, had just idled in the car park until Prince Harry had made it down. Liam only knows because he watched from the window, but if it were him, he'd get out of the car.

The point is, he hasn't heard from the prince since he left. He's not entirely certain Prince Harry has even realized that he's got two new contacts in his phone.

The sudden _ping_ of Liam’s phone going off in the otherwise silent room makes him jump, quickly rising to his feet. He snatches his phone off the table and reads the text.

_Why am I so damn hot? x_

Snickering, Liam types a quick response. Usually he'd be much more respectful with a royal on the other line, but the prince’s wording, lack of context, and signature surprise him.

_its coz of the metabolism or somethn idk_

He grimaces, coming back to himself, and adds a quick _Your Highness_ before sending the text.

He doesn't get a response for the rest of the day.

*

The next day, Liam finds out that the reason he didn't get a response was because Prince Harry was too busy looking him up. Somehow - probably because he's a prince - Harry found out almost everything there is to know about Liam, and has taken it upon himself to figure out how much of it is true or not.

He calls Liam at nine in the morning.

“Were you bit right after your birthday?” is the first thing he says. Liam groans, rubbing a hand over his face. Louis is curled up next to him on the bed, shifted, one bright blue eye peeking open. Liam himself had also slept in the shift, but the sound of his phone going off had startled him so much that he'd changed back.

“No, actually,” he mumbles, mouth feeling gummy. “Was right before. Why?” He's so tired he doesn't even bother to correct himself and refer to the prince with the proper title.

Prince Harry hums. “Your record says you were admitted to the hospital a week after your birthday, but it's the last hospital stay recorded. There isn't anything for before, though.”

His record? “My record?” Liam asks, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You do realize how creepy that sounds, right?”

The prince sucks on his teeth. “You do realize I don't care, right? And yes, your record. I'm not about to blindly trust the word of someone who could very well be mentally ill. I needed to make sure you had a clean record before I considered considering you may telling the truth.”

Liam winces, putting a hand to his head. “What?”

Huffing, Prince Harry says, “You know, when you consider whether or not you should actually consider something? You weigh the pros and cons of even thinking about something. It helps you in the long run to make any decisions.”

“I've no idea what you're talking about,” Liam says quietly, bending over. “Listen, just - if you'd like, Your Highness, I can meet you for lunch and I can explain things to you much more in depth. Will that help?”

There's a pause. The line goes crackly as Prince Harry lets out a long breath.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “I'll have someone pick you up at twelve. Sharp,” he adds quickly. “Don't be late.”

And then he hangs up.

“So you're going to lunch with the prince of England, then?” Louis asks. Liam jumps, startled. He hadn't noticed when Louis shifted back into his human form, he'd been so focused on the prince. “One might call it,” he pauses dramatically, “a date.”

Liam stands, rolling his eyes. “No, actually, one might not. It's two, um, _acquaintances_ having lunch together. One might call it,” he pauses, staring at Louis, “a lunch.”

Scoffing, Louis rolls across the bed, falling to his knees when he rolls right over the edge. He rummages through the mess underneath the bed, humming, completely unbothered with his naked state. Liam watches, brows pulling together.

With a triumphant sound, Louis finally pulls out what he was searching for. He hands it to Liam, a smug grin on his face. It's a leather bound journal, complete with a marker and an elastic to keep the cover shut, with a sticker plastered to the front.

“ _Lycanthropy for Dummies_ ,” Liam reads aloud. He looks at Louis. “No.” Louis’s eyes go wide, his arms spreading.

“It’s not my version!” he cries. “It’s Grimshaw’s, the one he gave me when we first met.” Liam narrows his eyes. “I swear! Check the byline, go ahead.”

Lips pursed, Liam tilts the journal into the weak light pouring in from a crack in the curtains. He sees a painstakingly penned ‘ _written by Nicholas Grimshaw, illustrations by Aimee Phillips_.’ Humming, he glances back up at Louis.

“I better not get arrested by the royal guard because you gave me an inappropriate book,” he says, waving the journal at Louis.

The other boy just makes a face at him. “Go meet with your pup, then. He needs your guidance, and whatever.”

Liam’s brows pull together.

That sentence puts way too much on his shoulders, and he’s not so sure how to take it. To think he may be the reason the Prince of England gets hurt, or worst case, even _dies_. Liam would probably die.

“Oh, god,” Liam whimpers, falling onto the bed. Louis throws him a concerned look, pulling a jumper over his head. “I’m not going to die, am I?”

Making a face, Louis walks over and drops to his knees in front of Liam. He props a hand on his chin, brows raised. “Liam,” he says. “Remember when I said not to say just one bit of your thoughts? You’ve gotta say it all, or else no one else understands.”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Liam shakes his head. “If I somehow steer the prince wrong, he could die. And if he dies, I might as well die, because it would be my fault that my crowned prince is dead. I’ve _killed_ my sovereign!”

Louis reels back slowly, exaggeratedly, a hand held up. “Whoa, there. No one’s died yet. No one will die. It’s not going to happen. Stop. You’ll both be fine, because you,” he places his hands on Liam’s knees, “are an amazing person, and an even better wolf. If there is anyone that I would send to teach royalty all about the beauty and magic of lycanthropy, it would be you. Not anyone else, alright? And I’m not just saying.” He stands, moving his hands to Liam’s shoulders. “Now go out there and kick some royal arse.”

*

Liam meets Harry at a five star restaurant for lunch. Or, he’s supposed to. He spends a good fifteen minutes standing outside the door, head tilted back to stare at the sign. It’s elaborate, with a swirly golden script and a name in a language he can’t read.

He stands there for so long the maitre d has to pull him inside.

“Have you got a reservation?” the man asks, brows raised in an unimpressed manner.

Liam nods, staring wide eyed around the restaurant. The windows are huge, most of them floor to ceiling, eradicating any need for fluorescent lighting, and there are pots overflowing with different plants hanging from the ceiling. The tables all have fancy tablecloths, the plates are clean enough that their shine can be seen from a distance, the silverware too.

He is so out of depth right now.

“Um, yeah,” he says, looking to the maitre d. “With um, Styles?”

An eyebrow cocked, the man opens his book, scanning the names. His eyes stop, widen when he sees exactly which Styles Liam is supposed to be meeting. Clearing his throat, he straightens his posture.

“Right this way, sir.” He leads Liam through the restaurant, and Liam can’t help but feel incredibly underdressed. They walk through what seems to be the main room, then up a set of spiraling stairs to another, more private area. The tables are less crowded, more far apart from each other.

Prince Harry is sat at the far end of the room, a window right behind him. The light flows in and around him, making him look almost angelic. Small dust motes fly around, but all Liam can think of is the little golden specks that always show up near angels in the films and shows and stuff.

The maitre d leads him to the table, gestures to it with a hand held out. Liam sits, and with a small bow, the man walks off.

“Hello,” Prince Harry says. He’s in the process of unfolding a cloth napkin, and he lays it over his lap with a flourish. “How are you?”

Liam stares at him, wide eyed. “What is this place?” At the prince’s blank stare, he tacks on a hasty “hi.”

“This place, _Liam_ , is a five star restaurant,” he says poshly. “The only public place acceptable for a royal to have a casual meeting.” He rolls his eyes, flipping his menu open. “Or so Gemma says.”

“Princess Gemma?” Liam asks, although he’s not sure why. Obviously _Princess_ Gemma. Why would the prince be talking about anyone but his sister.

“Yes,” he says. He takes a small breath, then meets Liam’s gaze. “Start talking, I suppose.”

Making a face, Liam pulls the journal out of his pocket. “Here. This should explain everything.” At least, he thinks. He flipped through it in the car on the way here - an actual _car_ , not a taxi or uber or anything - and it seemed pretty informative. Would have been useful for when he was first bitten.

Prince Harry takes it, cautious. “What is it?”

Liam shrugs, opening his menu. He sighs at all the foreign items, wondering if there’s anyway they’ll just give him a bowl of pasta. With red sauce. And some meatballs. But not the ones that are too big to eat with the pasta, the ones that are perfectly sized to eat with e hefty forkful of pasta, with enough red sauce to look like a crime scene.

“Manual to help pups with the shift.” He grimaces, adding “Your Highness.”

Prince Harry waves a hand dismissively. “Just Harry’s fine. Does this say Nicholas Grimshaw? And - and Aimee Phillips?” He flips open to the title page, going pale when he sees the names repeated.

“The radio guy? Yeah.” Liam points to a name on the menu. “Does escargot have pasta?”

Giving him a face, Prince Harry shakes his head. “What the hell are you talking about? Why is Nicholas Grimshaw listed as the author? Why is this written in his handwriting?”

Pouting, Liam skims the rest of the menu. “Um, Grimshaw’s part of our pack. He’s second, actually, to Louis, who you’ve met. Strange pair, they make, but they manage us really well. Oh! Fettuccine Alfredo!” No red sauce or meatballs, but it’ll do.

A hand slams Liam’s menu down. He jumps, scooting his chair back a bit. It goes rough against the carpet, sending weird vibrations along the legs of the chair. Liam does not like where this is going.

A wild look in his eye, Prince Harry snatches Liam’s menu away. “Why is my best friend listed as the author of a book on lycanthropy?” he asks slowly.

Eyes narrowing, Liam looks around. “Is that a trick question? Because I think it’s pretty obvious why.” He shrugs. “Grimshaw’s a werewolf.”

Before Prince Harry can answer, their waiter appears. Liam startles to see that it’s Jade.

“Hi, Liam!” she says happily. Her hair is straight today, pinned back carefully, though Liam doesn’t see any pins or ties. He likes how girls just know how to do that. He’s used pins a few times, and they were always so obvious. “Where’d you go the other day? We missed you like halfway through the dinner.” She glances to Prince Harry, then freezes. “Oh my god.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says diplomatically, ignoring the way Jade’s eyes have gone wide.

Choked noises escape Jade’s gaping mouth, until she bows stiffly and quickly and runs off again. Liam frowns.

“I didn’t get to tell her I wanted pasta,” he pouts.

“Would you shut up about the pasta?” Prince Harry snaps. “She’ll be back once the shock wears off and the embarrassment sets in, and I’ll apologize for startling her because I wasn’t expecting for her to run away, but you need to help me understand. You haven’t spoken one coherent sentence since we’ve got here. Please.” He stares at Liam imploringly.

Mourning the loss of his pasta, Liam nods. “Alright. Grimshaw is a werewolf. Has been since he was born; it’s in his blood. Most of us are bit and turned, but some of come from families. His is an old one, they’ve lived in England for generations. He was our pack’s first, originally, but when Louis came to London he stepped down. Louis is - he’s a natural born leader. Can smell it when he walks into the building, it’s so strong. Um,” he squints. “First is like the leader, or alpha. And the second is their right hand man.” He jerks his chin at the journal in Prince Harry’s hand. “You’ll find it all in there.”

Prince Harry shakes his head, mouth hanging open. He falls back in his seat.

“Hey,” Liam says gently, leaning forward. “We told you ten percent of the population is made up of wolves. It’s a much bigger number than you think.” He pries journal out of Prince Harry’s hand slowly, then flips through the pages. “This isn’t the version I got when I first turned, but it’s a lot of help. It’s got a bit of a historical bit, and then there’s a brief foreword from Grimshaw’s mum, and then Grimshaw starts off with the bite. He writes it really well, it’s a very good read. Easy.”

Fingers pulling at his lip, Prince Harry nods. “Right. Um, so is this just a thing, then? _Lycanthropy for Dummies_? Is it a series that you all can add to?”

Liam shrugs. “It all depends on you, really. There’s usually one per pack, just in case they get a pup, but if you wanted to write your own you could. The more the merrier, right, as long as we’re not discovered.”

“Right,” Prince Harry says. “Um, why don’t you want to be discovered again?”

“Well, we’re supposed to be myths, right,” Liam starts, “but if we’re discovered we might be mistreated. Seen as freaks, monsters, science projects. It’s more a precaution. I mean, they used to burn people just because they thought they were witches; imagine what they’d do to us.”

Prince Harry’s brows pull together. “But witches aren’t real, right?”

Liam laughs. “Of course they are. Vampires, too. Mermaids, fairies, all that stuff, they’re real.”

“So...if I go to England, will I find a mummy?”

“No,” Liam makes a face. “Maybe not _all_ that stuff. But a good portion of it. The myths have to come from somewhere, you know.”

“Right,” Prince Harry says slowly, nodding. He still looks confused, but less so now. He points to the journal in Liam’s lap. “So that’ll explain everything to me?” Liam nods. “Like, like an encyclopedia or something.”

Shrugging a bit, Liam hands it back. “Guess so.”

Nodding, Prince Harry opens the journal. He reads quickly, eyes skimming through the words. Liam stares at him, unable to help himself. The prince looks so focused, brows furrowed and lips pursed, and Liam is a bit enthralled. He’s never seen someone look so good while reading. And he’s met some good looking people.

Eventually, Jade comes back and takes their order. She manages to speak to Prince Harry very politely, voice only squeaking once. After she’s gone - and Liam has successfully ordered his pasta - Prince Harry flips the journal open again. They sit in silence as he reads. It’s almost twenty minutes before Prince Harry speaks again, and by then Liam’s about finished with his food.

“So...ten percent of the population is really made up of werewolves?” he asks quietly. He pushes his salad around with his fork, dragging it through the dressing.

Liam nods. “It’s a rough number, but yeah. We’re everywhere.” He leans back in his seat. “Sort of like gay people.”

Prince Harry gives him a look. “That’s not funny.”

Brows pulling together, says, “I wasn’t trying to be funny. I meant it seriously. They say one in every ten people you meet is gay, and the same is true for werewolves. One in every ten. One in every five people is both. Like me.” He throws it out casually, shrugging a shoulder. He knows he shouldn’t have to worry about coming out to the prince, since he’s publicly come out as bi, but it’s still a bit rattling to say something like that to a royal. “Or at least I think that’s how the number would go.”

Prince Harry frowns. “But...don’t you have certain, like, needs and stuff? Like health care that works for you, and -“

Liam laughs. “We don’t need health care, Your Hi - Harry. Um.” He coughs awkwardly. “We don’t need health care. We heal from any wound almost immediately, we don’t get sick. The only thing we could possibly get is heart worms, but there’s medication for that.” He holds his hands up when Prince Harry gapes at him, saying nothing. “Joking. I’m only joking. But really, health care is the last thing on our minds. Really what we need is job security for every full moon. I was only at the gala that night because my boss wouldn’t let me take it off. If he’d known I was going to turn into a creature that doesn’t exist here anymore and bite the prince, I’m sure he’d have let me off.”

Pulling out his phone, Prince Harry nods. “Job security,” he mumbles, typing. He looks up at Liam. “What else?”

Eyebrows raising, Liam tilts his head so his ear is closer to the prince. “I’m sorry, what?”

Prince Harry shrugs. “You said you need job security. What else?”

”Um,” Liam lifts his chin, trying to see the screen of Prince Harry’s phone. “No, no. Don’t write anything down, please.”

”Why not?” Prince Harry scoffs. “If ten percent of my people are secretly werewolves, then ten percent of my people are being unrepresented in the government. I need to fix that.”

”Um,” Liam says. “No, no.”

”Liam,” Prince Harry scoffs. “Don’t you want some sort of law protecting you from prison time if you bite and kill someone? Or - or do you want some sort of law protecting you from hunters? From scientists who will want to experiment on you once they find out what you are.”

Liam blinks. “Um. No.” At Prince Harry’s look, he raises his hands again. “Hear me out. We survived this long without any protection, we’ll continue to survive. We’re fine.”

Brows quirking, Prince Harry purses his lips. He hums disapprovingly and takes a sip of his tea. “I disagree. I’m a werewolf now because you weren’t guaranteed your job despite a serious medical condition. You’re not fine.”

”Excuse me,” Liam says, “it’s not a _medical condition_. I’m not dying, Your Highness, I just turn into a wolf once a month. It’s like a girl’s period, only not as long. Or painful. They don’t need job security just because of a monthly bleed. They need it for - other reasons.”

”Like being werewolves,” Prince Harry says nonchalantly. “Listen, Liam, I appreciate you giving me this book, and I _definitely_ appreciate you informing me that my best mate is a filthy liar, but now that I’m one of you I’m ensuring that you get the rights you deserve. The second I turned eighteen I started working towards equality in the workplace for non-straight or cis citizens, and I plan on doing the same for - for non-non-werewolves.”

Eyes narrowing, Liam coughs once. “Please don’t.”

”Oh, I will, Liam,” Prince Harry says loftily. “I will.”

*

Liam wakes up the next morning to a newspaper hitting him in the face. He splutters, shaking his head, and opens his eyes to find Louis standing above him, hands on his hips, eyebrows raised expectantly. Whining, Liam quickly shifts back into human form.

”Why did Prince Harry tweet the wolf emoji - a solitary wolf emoji, with no context - at arse o clock at night?” he asks curiously. His too calm tone makes Liam want to shift right back.

”Um,” he says eloquently. “He may or may not be planning to come out to the world, and he may or may not be planning to put every other werewolf in England. _Maybe_.”

Louis hums, nodding. “Alright then.” He wacks Liam across the head with the paper again, shouting, “What the bloody hell were you _thinking_ , Liam? I told you to deal with him! _This_ ,” he waves the paper aggressively, “is not dealing with him. _This_ is making it worse!”

Liam holds his hands up against the assault, leaning as far away as he can across the bed. “I’m sorry, okay, he took one look at the manual and he started spouting all this shite about how he’s gonna get us equal rights because we’re just like gays or something! _Stop_ , Lou!”

He does, still holding the paper above his head ominously. Brows raised, he stares down at Liam like a bronze statue staring at pedestrians who’ve done nothing wrong, thank you very much. “You stop him before he goes on the bloody Breakfast Show and gets himself committed to a padded room, you hear me?” When Liam stays quiet, he raises the paper higher. “ _Do you hear me?_ ”

” _Yes_ , Christ,” Liam snaps. “Fucking animal abuser, damn.”

He gets another wack for it, but he doesn’t regret saying it one bit.

*

”Listen, Your Highness, please don’t go on the Beeb and tell everyone about us,” Liam says. “I know this is like the fifth voicemail I’ve left you but I’m just really worried and Louis always makes you pay for any insubordination during a run by absolutely exhausting you and I really don’t want that, so please just don’t tell anyone. At all. Please. Thanks, bye.” He lowers the phone, then raises it immediately again. “This is Liam, by the way.”

Sighing, he hangs up the phone.

”Liam, we need you,” Louis says, poking his head into the room. Liam raised his brows, staring at him. Louis sighs. “You’ve got to explain to the pack exactly what it is you’ve got us into.”

Groaning, Liam pulls himself out of his desk, limbs hanging heavy. As he passes by Louis, the other boy places a hand between his shoulders, leading him along.

“Grimshaw’s here,” he murmurs, “so just - be concise.”

When Liam walks into the living room, the whole pack is crammed into any available space. There’s about twelve of them, some of them people he doesn’t see but once a month. 

Nick Grimshaw is sat right in the middle of them all, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

Liam smiles weakly, but he’s sure it comes out as more of a grimace.

”Hi, everyone,” he says, waving. They all make a noise of agreement. “Um, so Louis says I have to explain what happened the other day, during the moon. Um. I couldn’t get off work, so I was going to just beg off a few minutes in, but the moon came up a bit sooner than I expected so I didn’t get the chance. I - I left right before I shifted, but someone followed me and I bit them.” He nods, satisfied with his _concise_ explanation. He glances at Louis, who shakes his head no. “Um, the guy I bit was Prince Harry.”

The pack erupts into shouts and, in some cases, laughter, but all Liam can focus on is Grimmy, still sitting there with his arms crossed. He raises his hand, and the room falls silent immediately.

”And now what’s he planning on doing?” he asks quietly. The room rustles with unease.

Liam shifts on his feet. “Um, he’s planning on coming out as a werewolf and, um, everyone else too. So we can have equal rights.”

Zayn, _quiet_ Zayn, _usually on Liam’s side_ Zayn, laughs out loud.

”You’re kidding, right?” he asks, a grin on his face. He looks around the room, at all the individual pack members. “Prince Harry is going to reveal himself and the rest of us as what we are so we can _equal rights_?”

Liam shrugs. He laughs again, shaking his head and burrowing into the couch.

They all jump to attention as Liam’s phone rings in his pocket. He pulls it out, flashing the screen at Louis. It’s Prince Harry.

”Put it on speaker, Liam,” Grimmy says. He does.

”Hello?” he says into the phone.

”Hii, Liam,” Prince Harry says. He sounds a bit out of breath, but calm and happy overall. “So I’ve decided not to tell everyone about us.” The pack, which had been leaning forward in anticipation, visibly relaxes. “I’m going to tell Gems, obviously, because she’s _Gems_ , but the general public needn’t know for now.”

”For now?” Liam asks, brows pulling together. “How about for never?”

Prince Harry laughs, loud and bright. “Well, I guess it just depends on what happens when I’m king, right?” He pauses. “Which is never, technically, cos I’m like, eight in line, and if Gemma has a kid, it’ll push me back, but. Still. We’ll see how the world turns out before we try anything.”

”Haz,” Grimmy calls, “why do we need to try _anything_? Why don’t we just leave well enough alone?”

”I’m not talking to you, Nick,” Prince Harry says happily. “But, _Liam_ , I’ve decided that instead of bringing the werewolf community to the public as separate pieces, I’m going to bring the werewolf community together as a whole. There should be a network of sorts between all the packs, so that information can be spread as needed. That’s what I wanna do. _Liam_.”

Liam runs a hand over his forehead, but Grimmy just shakes his head. “He’s not going to answer me, Payno, you’re gonna have to talk to him,” he says.

Louis stands, drawing the attention of all eyes in the room. “Keep talking to the prince, Liam. We’ll go out, give you some space. Talk some sense into him, please.” He whistles sharply, jerking his head towards the door, and there’s a sudden stampede of feet as everyone rushes to get out.

”Dont let him convince you that this is a good idea,” Grimmy says, holding the door open. “It’s not. We’ve tried to bring all the packs together before, and it didn’t work. The prince being there won’t make it any better. Just...hold your ground, yeah?”

And he leaves Liam alone.

”Liam?” Prince Harry says curiously. “Don’t listen to Nick, alright, I know what I’m doing. Politics is easy for me, I was literally born into it. Just hear me out, yeah?”

Liam grimaces. “Um, okay.”

Prince Harry takes a deep breath. “If we find a way to bring the werewolf community together, then if anything ever happens we’ll be informed.”

”Such as?” Liam sits. He feels like he’ll need it.

”Such as what happens when there’s an eclipse?” Prince Harry pauses, waiting for an answer. “Not every werewolf has lived through one, so they won’t know what to expect. And if you’ve got a relatively young pack, then no one will know what to expect. And you do the wrong thing, then you may shift right in the middle of Tesco. What’re you gonna do then?”

Liam frowns. “That’s...actually a valid point. What else?”

Prince Harry pauses again. “Really?” he asks, almost disbelievingly. “You think so?”

”Yeah,” Liam says. “I know there was one a couple months ago but I was on holiday and I got a concussion so I don’t really know what happened. And Louis never said.”

”Oh,” Prince Harry says brightly. “Okay, so that’s one example. But say your - _our_ \- amazing immune systems one day fail us, or an illness so strong manages to infect us, how are we going to know what’s going on? If a different pack has information that we could benefit from, why shouldn’t we be able to share it?”

And so it goes. Prince Harry lists off reason after reason for creating a secret community for the werewolf population of England, and Liam listens patiently. He doesn’t try to dispute Prince Harry’s reasoning - most of it is pretty sound reasoning, anyway - and he doesn’t try to convince him that there’s no need for it. Actually, he thinks even Grimmy would be impressed _and_ convinced.

”Maybe - maybe you should write some sort of speech?” Liam suggests. “We can start to spread the word, get different packs to meet somewhere. It has be somewhere big, though. London alone has thousands of us, and a park or a conference room won’t be big enough.”

There’s a spot of silence as they think. “Well,” says Prince Harry, “What if we just invited pack leaders. Then they can decide for their packs if they trust me enough to let me do this.” He falls silent, long enough for Liam to begin to worry.

”Your Highness?” he says quietly.

”Harry,” he corrects automatically. “I’m fine, I just,” he takes a shaky breath. “What if they don’t let me do this?”

Liam bites his lip, silent. When Prince Harry sniffs suspiciously, he sighs. “If there’s one thing werewolves never say no to, Harry, it’s a strong leader. If there had to be someone who could handle being a sort of alpha to all the wolves in England, it’s you. You’ve never even shifted and yet you’re already working out how to make the lives of all the packs better. You’ve got this, Harry.”

”You think so?” Prince Harry asks.

”I _know_ so,” Liam says firmly. “You’re already a prince. It’s like you said; you were born for this.”

”Thanks, Liam,” Harry says quietly. “You know, you didn’t even call me Your Highness that time.”

Liam blanches. “Oh god. Please don’t, like, execute me.”

Laughing, Prince Harry says, “Course not. Can’t kill my maker.”

”Yeah,” Liam says slowly. “About that...I never did get to apologize, I don’t think.”

”Don’t even,” says Prince Harry. “I may not completely understand all of this yet, but I’m not going to blame you for something you obviously couldn’t control. Just - make it up to me by helping me spread the word about this. I’ll find us a venue, you start inviting people. Yeah?”

”Course, Harry.”

*

Two weeks later, they’re standing in the wings of a theater, the only venue big enough they could find that didn’t ask a ton of questions, and didn’t balk at a royal asking to rent.

The air is thick with the smell of alpha, too much authority in one place with no one to direct it at. Liam’s sure that if Harry doesn’t start speaking soon, a riot will start. 

He really needs to find Harry.

”Liam, he’s got two minutes before we need to distract them,” Louis snaps. “We promised they’d be out in an hour; we’ve been here twenty minutes already.”

”I know, I know,” Liam says, hands up. “I’ll find him, don’t worry.”

He sets off, looking for his pup. He can’t quite sniff him out, not with all the other wolves packed into the theater, but he’s pretty sure he knows where Harry is.

Without knocking, he presses open the bathroom door. “Harry?” he calls gently. A groan greets him back. “You’ve got to get out there, babe. Everyone’s getting a little impatient.”

”Urgh,” Harry groans. Liam opens the first stall to see him bent over a toilet, knees locked and hands on his thighs. “I’d be on the floor if not for this damn suit,” he groans.

”Aw, come on, you love that suit,” Liam coos. Harry throws him a glare over his shoulder, and he chuckles. “I’m sorry. But you really do need to get out there.”

Harry straightens, pulling his suit jacket off the partition of the stall. “Fine. But if I hurl everywhere you’re cleaning it up.”

”It would be my pleasure, Your Highness,” Liam says, grinning.

Laughing sarcastically, Harry breezes past him, exiting the loo and heading back to the wings. Louis, when he sees them, screams, and throws a stack of index cards loosely tied together at them.

”It’s about time!” he cries. “These’re your notes, you’ve got a nice podium over there, perfect for your abnormal height, the light’s been checked a hundred times so that it’s  bright enough to see you but not bright enough to see you sweat, now _get out there_.”

Harry turns to Liam, eyes wide and panicky. “What if they don’t listen to me?”

”They will,” Liam says, hands on his shoulders. “Just watch. They’ll fall all over themselves trying to be the first person to sign up.” Harry nods, desperate, and Liam knows he needs to hear more. “Your plan is genius, Haz, even Grimmy thought so. The werewolves of England will thank you for decades to come for bringing us together like this.” He casts around for something else to say, Harry’s shoulders going lax beneath his hands. “Just go out there, do your thing, and watch what happens.” He smiles softly.

”They’re gonna love you.”


End file.
